A Shadow in the Light
by JohnlovesTampaBay
Summary: The Technomage Galen has lost his ship to a Drakh attack is now tooling through space in what he could afford: a Llort Ma Ti transport. He is looking for a way to get another flyer when he is confronted with a message from an unexpected source...
1. Chapter 1 The Message

Galen saw the ship coming his way and decided to lay low. His own craft destroyed on a recent run-in with the Drakh fleet; it was unlikely the elders would grant him the resources needed to have another . Still, this rusting hunk of debris had a charm all its own. While it wasn't exactly a technomage flyer, it did come with a jump point generator, and basic pulse weapons. Long story short, it had all the comforts of home for a smuggler which, for all intents and purposes, Galen had been relegated to following the Drakh attack.

A klaxon sounded, and Galen pulled up a display which showed a wireframe of a ship. It appeared to be human vessel, like Earth Alliance. _Great,_ he thought. _I have nothing aboard this cargo ship, I'm off the main routes, and I'm the only one aboard. Someone is bound to think something is amiss here._

The comm system cracked to life with a female voice speaking through INTERLAC "This is the Earth Alliance destroyer Perseus to unidentified ship. We have monitored your movements and your registry is not listed on any Interstellar Alliance manifests . Please identify yourself immediately "

Galen chuckled at the demand for identification. The mere mention of his name would link him to President Sheridan, and likely lead to a litany of questions and favors being offered. While an attractive thought, it was counterproductive to his immediate goal. Instead, it was time for diplomacy and stealth and most important, deceit .

"this is Captain..." in a moment of haste, he used the first word seen, over a gauge on the control panel. "R'toc, of the Llort Ma Ti. i am transporting fusion coils to Babylon 5 for a buyer."

Then he laid a device on the control panel. the device glowed and within seconds, the speaker replied "We confirm your cargo. Be advised that raiders have been seen in this area. Be careful."

"Thank you for your concern." Galen, now relieved, replied. "Good day."

Once the destroyer went on its way, Galen decided to check his translator to see what new Llort Ma Ti officer the alliance would now list. He located the word he used and cross referenced it to the English language, letting out a hearty laugh at the result.

Waste. Captain Waste.

The cacophony of jokes not withstanding, what was funnier was that considering it was made to sound like the Llort Ma Ti it was actually believable. Any other language it would have been met with raised eyebrows, but the Llort were very good at devising stupid names. Only the Vree, with their reputation as practical jokers, would have come up with something sillier. Sheridan even once mentioned how a Vree captain called himself a name which later translated to "orbiting space sphincter."

A flip of a switch and another klaxon sounded, indicating a jump point was forming. The energy tube emerged and as he navigated the ship into hyperspace, he setting course for its intended destination.

Babylon 5

It was at that point when Galen saw the INTERLAC indicator flash. This time, the sensors showed nothing. Not even a speck of dust on the display. Who could it be?

Galen activated the INTERLAC translator, and the display showed a simple message:

_Would you like to play a game?_

Another hearty laugh. Being human, Galen spent some time studying the history of human culture, with a particular affinity for 20th century entertainment. He was amused that someone would use a "Wargames" reference. However, it quickly troubled him as he realized that only a select few people would know that reference, and so he messaged back in INTERLAC text.

_Do you go by Professor or Doctor?_

This was getting most unnerving. However, he continued on course to Babylon 5. Then the INTERLAC beacon lit up again, and another message.

_We are looking for you, Galen._

That did it. Only one person who knows this reference knows Galen by name. It was a man he had run-ins with before, and knew of his passing some years ago. This had to be a joke, a prank or worse; a ghost in the machine.

_Is this Morden?_

Morden, the human know for his role in the Shadow War as a broker of dark dreams. Morden, the human whose head rest atop a pike on Centauri Prime for three years before Emperor Mollari ordered it removed and incinerated to satisfy his Keeper. Morden, the man who made a deal to have Anna Sheridan killed in exchange for his life, only to lose it when the Anna doppelganger was found out by John Sheridan, leading to the nuclear detonation which nearly killed Morden the first time.

How is he alive? Galen though. Better yet, how did communicate with me?

_Yes, it is. What do you want?_

A classic Morden, and Shadow question. What do you want?

_I want to know how you are communicating with me. You, sir, are dead!_

Got him, Galen thought. He can't argue that one!

_Who said I'm really dead?_

Now this is just mean.

_Mr. Morden, your body was scarred beyond recognition on Z'ha'dum. Your head was severed by Emperor Mollari. You are, for lack of a better term, worm food. You…are…dead!_

There, that should do it!

_If you say so._

This man is toying with me, Galen thought. If I could INTERLAC him a stinkbomb to check his sense of smell, he would have done it.

_Mr. Morden, please tell me where you are sending me this message from._

_That's for me to know and you to seek out._

Well then, he did it. Now, I'm mad, and nothing is more dangerous than an angry technomage.


	2. Chapter 2 Meeting O'Hara

May 1, 2012

"This is the Duck Dodgers to Babylon control, do you copy," Galen announced into the comm unit. He was quite certain of the response.

"Babylon control online," a quizzical voice was on the other end. It was Commander Corwin, who was running the station for Captain Lochley while she was back on Earth on leave. "Did you just say the 'Duck Dodgers?'"

"Confirmed," Galen repeated himself. What do people not understand about whimsical ship names?

"This must be Galen," Corwin chuckled. "Initiating jump point sequence. Stand by."

Within a matter of seconds, a jump point formed in front of Galen's ship. Gripping the controls gently, he guided his vessel towards the station until it had entered the docking area. A short landing procedure later, and the vessel was secured. The steady rotation of the station kept it on metal "ground." Galen emerged from it, and walked towards the station customs posts. Security Chief Zack Allen, a little more grizzled than the last time Galen seen him, waited there for him.

"So Galen," Allen smiled as he took Galens identicard in hand. "What brings you here this time?" "Meeting with your President," Galen smiled back. "Is he here?"

"I'll check," Allen said, tapping his comm link, then speaking into the top of his hand. "Customs, C and C."

"C and C online," Corwin answered.

"Is President Sheridan still on station?" Allen asked.

"Confirmed," Corwin stated. "He's leaving this afternoon."

"Understood," Allen finished. "Now, I don't know what you're up to but…"

Just as he turned around, Galen had vanished. He looked around, and everyone else was as confused as he was. One moment he was there, the next he was gone. The identicard which was in his reader was gone too. With the wind, apparently.

"I swear, that guy will be the death of me," Allen grumbled.

President Sheridan was the image of confidence, and more of irritation. Even since the end of the Drakh plague, he had been having difficulty justifying the need for the existence of an independent war fleet. The Alliance Council had granted Sheridan emergency powers during the plague for Sheridan to order the fleet into member territories, but since the end of the plague not only had the council been loath to grant Sheridan additional powers, several incidents between member governments had raised questions about Sheridan's objectivity. Galen, among others, had been instrumental in creating an atmosphere of cooperation thanks to some illusions of fear he had created. However, without his ship, Galen's abilities had become severely limited, and now he was at Babylon 5 looking for the one man who could help him.

"President Sheridan," he began. Sheridan looked up into thin air and seeing nothing. He was noticeably annoyed. The furrows on his forehead had become more pronounced with each passing year.

"Galen," he growled. "I know you like to play jokes, but this is not a good time."

"Tell that," Galen suddenly appeared in a flash of light. "To those who die because of stress. Oh that's right, you're life span is already predetermined."

"Touche," Sheridan answered. "What do you want?"

"I would like to ask a favor of you." Galen stated, this time all business.

"A favor?" Sheridan sat back, smiling like the cat that ate the canary. "A technomage asking a mere human for a favor. Now, that's a switch!"

"You know why I'm here," Galen was now visibly agitated. "My ship was destroyed in the Drakh attacks on Karino III. You're White Stars were not exactly gracious in assisting."

"Technomage ships register as Shadow tech to some of their sensors," Sheridan countered. "You should have known they would fire on you."

"Irrelevant. The fact remains, your fleet helped destroy my ship. Now I'm asking for a favor as compensation. At least I'm not demanding."

"True," Sheridan smiled. "Then again, you did help us destroy a Shadow planetkiller years ago, and help us to identify the genetic markers which trigger the plague."

"And now the plague," Galen smiled triumphantly. "Is little more than a nuisance akin to the common cold."

Sheridan chuckled under his breath. He knew Galen had him there. The question was how could he possibly acquire the technology Galen needed to build another ship, or give him the funds needed to purchase one of equal ability. "What is it you're looking for, exactly."

"Believe it or not," Galen pull an orb from his coat. "Not another ship. Instead, I am looking for something of higher value."

"Such as?"

"An assignment, to another vessel." Galen smiled. "I actually enjoyed my time aboard the Excalibur. Too bad Captain Gideon didn't appreciate my humor."

"You set his meal preferences to Pak'Ma'Ra," Sheridan raised an eyebrow. "Gideon didn't exactly like the concept of maggots in his chicken salad."

Galen laughed heartily at that. The sight of Captain Gideon nearly throwing up was enough to make everyone else wretch until they all saw Galen guffawing in the back. Gideon nearly had Dureena Nafeel space her friend for that one. "Again, irrelevant. What matters is that I receive an assignment to a ship patrolling the edge of Drakh space."

"Drakh space?" Sheridan was now stunned. "What the hell for?"

Galen produced a data crystal and pushed it into the input port. Suddenly a series of messages appeared in a holographic viewer between Sheridan and Galen. "This. It is a series of messages between me and someone who purports to me one Mr. Morden."

"Morden?" Sheridan was stunned even more. "He's been dead for years. This has to be false!"

"I would think so," Galen agreed. "Except for the fact the message has no known source."

"Hmmmm,' Sheridan mused. "Are you suggesting the Drakh may be behind this transmission."

"Or we have a ghost in the machine," Galen was darkly whimsical in his tone. "Either way, the Drakh are the only race, aside from my order, with this sort of technology to create a 'black hole source'."

Sheridan pondered the concept for a moment, then pulled out a data entry pad, made some adjustments, and tapped his comm link. "Sheridan, C and C." "C and C online."

"Notify the Lancelot that Galen will be joining their crew upon departure for the Sullus system in three hours. Captain O'Hara has been notified."

"Yes, Mr. President. Understood."

"Thank you, Mr. President," Galen graciously said.

"Don't thank me yet," Sheridan looked up at him with apprehension. "Captain O'Hara is the biggest skeptic I've ever met. She spent her whole life studying technomages as a hobby. She knows all your tricks and most of technology. If it's a technomage illusion, she can sniff it out. And what's more, she doesn't like technomages."

"Sounds like a match made in heaven." Galen grinned.

"Perhaps," he nodded at someone behind him. "Why don't you ask her yourself."

Captain Holly O'Hara was not your typical ISA captain. She had been a Shok'Na, a Captain in the Ranger fleet before deciding that serving her own people was a higher calling. However, she retained her rank within the Rangers, and her uniform as a result. The only member of the Anla'Shok allow to join the ISA Fleet and retain her rank and station, she was not a believer in signs an portents. Her views often clashed with the more spiritual humans, and especially with the religious Minbari who joined the Rangers. Tall, with short black hair and a trim, non-curvaceous build, she looked more like a human female but when she spoke, her soft, airy voice gave her gender away instantly.

"Captain Holly O'Hara, reporting for duty," she said, standing at attention. "You must be Galen." "I am," he answered.

"Well, mister," she was all business. "I have just two primary rules for my ship beyond the typical ISA protocols. One, no practical jokes that I do not authorize."

"And two," Galen led on.

"No technomages."

"Then I violated your second rules," Galen grinned.

"Only," Captain O'Hara countered. "Because President Sheridan outranks me, and because I've always wanted to study a technomage in a controlled environment. And let me assure you, Galen, you will be tightly controlled." Captain O'Hara spun on her heel and walked away. Galen turned back to Sheridan, who was grinning from ear to ear. "You're enjoying this."

"I'll send your regards to Captain Gideon," Sheridan smiled. "He recommended her to me."

Everyone's a comedian, Galen thought.


	3. Chapter 3 Lancelot in Hyperspace

The quarters were Spartan, and quite cramped. The best Galen ever had, by far.

The Lancelot wasn't your prototypical Victory-class destroyer. Since the Alliance R&D team discovered a way to create a modified hyperspace-power engine, the crew complement had to be reduced to make room for a much larger modified engine. The hum generated sounded similar to a swarm of killer bees, and it created a vibration which reminded Galen of one of the sensory suits used by holobrothels on New Vegas. Still, the raw power generated by the engine plant was enough to allow continuous fire for the main quantum cannons, instead of the "one and wait" nature of the first generation Victory class vessels.

"Bridge to Galen," a speaker cracked to life. It was Captain O'Hara.

"Galen here," he answered melodically.

"Please report to my ready room in 5 minutes," the captain barked.

"You're wish is my command," he cooed.

After placing his satchel on the cot, Galen looked out at Babylon 5. It was rapidly getting smaller and within a minute, the image of the station with Epsilon 3 as a backdrop was replaced by waves of coruscating orange energy, indicative of a jumpoint transition into hyperspace. Soon, clear space was replaced by the gaseous, hellish clouds of hyperspace. Soonafter that, Galen was on his way to Captain O'Hara's ready room.

The Lancelot ready room was a small, uncomfortable conference room intended for four, maybe five officers. As the ship already had its full crew complement, Galen was looked at as an outsider. He recognized the short haired, masculine O'Hara immediately. Next to her was the Executive Officer, Commander Walter Hammond. Older with silver hair, Hammond was career Earthforce Military. When he spoke it was with a soft, firm voice. The crew respected him, and he spoke to O'Hara like a father advising a daughter.

Next to Hammond was a quite attractive woman with brown hair in a bun, wearing a portable comm piece in her ear. This was no doubt the Tactical Officer, Lieutanent Perez. Considered by many to be the finest Tactical Officer in Earthforce, she volunteered to serve aboard the Lancelot and cut her teeth in the Drakh War. Her primary innovation was using an inverted wedge to draw ships into a kill box, then unleashed conventional firepower on them until there was nothing left. It was called the "Poor Man's Planetkiller" because it was able to lay waste to enemy fleets, but it lacked the sophistication of planet-killer class weaponry.

Finally, seated next to Galen was a portly Narn, T'Fon. He was rather surly, and had fewer spots than normal Narns, which Galen later learned was the result of him being only half Narn, and half human. He wasn't talkative, except to say "yes" and "no" or "possibly" or "perhaps." He was the Lead Engineer on the Lancelot, as the Chief Engineer, Commander Droshiana, was dealing with personal business on the Drazi homeworld.

"Everyone," Captain O'Hara began. "This, is Galen, a technomage assigned to us by President Sheridan. Now, we were supposed to rendezvousing with the EAS Zeus for a routine patrol of trade routes between Brakiri and Centauri space, but because our new friend here seems to believe in ghosts, we are heading for Sector 125x200x3."

"That's near the edge of Vorlon space," T'Fon pointed out. "We need to proceed with great caution."

"Agreed," Galen added. "Even though they have gone beyond the rim, Vorlon space still has many traps and auto defense systems."

"We will be very careful," O'Hara stated. "In fact, we will likely not go too far into the sector, except to see if your theory is correct."

"What theory?" Hammond asked.

"That ghosts can survive in space," Galen offered.

"Come again?"

"Galen," O'Hara's tone was now quite derisive. "Seems to believe that a Shadow agent, Mr. Morden, who has since passed on, has taken up residence in the space near the Vorlon Empire. In Valen's name, why he would do that is anyone's guess."

"Because," Galen shot back. "Morden liked to taunt people, and what better way to taunt the Vorlons, even though they aren't here anymore, than to 'talk trash' near their borders."

"That's like wearing a New York Yankees shirt in Toronto and screaming 'how about those Mars Rockets?'" Hammond said, referring to the Blue Jays move to Mars over 100 years ago.

"Only in this case," Galen said. "There are no foul poles, and if you strike out, you're dead."

"Lovely," Perez snorted. "So we have to worry not just about potential Vorlon defenses, but the chance that our main systems will become 'possessed?'"

"I wouldn't say possessed," Galen chuckled. "More like 'haunted.'"

"Same difference, technodouche," Perez groused. Everyone, even O'Hara laughed at that reference.

"Laugh if you will at the insult," Galen sneered. "But I'm telling you he's out there."

"I suppose we can hold a séance," Hammond laughed. "But how do you get candles to burn outside in hyperspace?"

Galen shook his head. Everyone wants to look at this as funny. Morden is no joke, but I suppose they will learn when they find shadow implant in their teeth in the middle of the night.


End file.
